


Two Thousand Years of Humanity

by soldierwithahalo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse, Dean Has A Wing Kink, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Season/Series 05, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwithahalo/pseuds/soldierwithahalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armageddon is on the verge of torching the entire Earth, and what is the holy vessel of the great archangel Michael and his trusted ally, the angel Castiel doing?</p><p>Oh, that's right. Kissing. In the Singer Salvage Yard.</p><p>A prime example of "it started out funny, got a little serious, and ended in total sappiness".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Thousand Years of Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> This just came tumbling out after I drew something. Hope you enjoy it!

You’d think, after about two millennium on Earth, he would learn the ways of mankind. But nope, apparently, he didn’t.

Castiel – angel of the Lord, commander of the 14th garrison – had only just begun to grasp the meaning of being human.

So, when he gets kissed for the very first time, it shouldn’t be too big of a shock that he accidentally makes a few boxes explode, set a car on fire, hurls every object within a one meter radius of himself at least ten feet away and momentarily materializes his wings, right?

Right, but that’s exactly why Castiel – angel of the Lord who has now _been kissed_ – was now sitting on the ground of Singer Salvage Yard, with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring at the mess he had created, while Dean Winchester sat by his side, staring with his mouth open at the burning car.

“That was…” Dean began, gaping.

“Pleasant,” Castiel murmured, finishing his sentence.

Dean turned slowly to face him, one elegant eyebrow raised. “Really?” He gestured to the burning car, the burst boxes and the mess of toppled over cars around them.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded, paying no mind to their surroundings. He pursed his lips and turned to face his friend (was Dean still his friend?) confidently. “I believe that was a pleasant feeling.”

Dean considered rebutting, maybe throwing in a really sarcastic comment. He really did. But he closed his mouth, knowing full well that what the angel said was true. Instead, he leaned forwards to press his lips against Castiel’s again.

The celestial being flinched backwards for a split second, but almost immediately, a giant pair of wings – pure white with grey primary feathers – materialized behind him, fluttering lightly and reaching towards the blue sky. Dean would later never admit to opening an eye just to catch a glimpse of their magnificence. Well, _that_ and the few empty oil barrels that got hurled away.

When Dean pulled away, the wings disappeared and he merely raised an eyebrow at his companion. “Dude, we have got to find a way to stop this explosion.” A smirk toyed on the edge of his lips.

Castiel, still a little shell shocked, took a few extra seconds to regain his composure. “I…do not see the need to.” In all honesty, he was just far too lazy to add another item to his ridiculously long to-do list, which at that moment consisted of:

  1.        Stopping the apocalypse
  2.        Preventing the angels from getting to Dean
  3.        Preventing the demons from getting to Sam
  4.        Dodging Zachariah and Raphael
  5.        Dodging the Heavenly Host in general



And yet, here he still was, finding time in the midst of this chaos to pursue his interests – Dean Winchester. Well, Deanwas probably the reason why Castiel was forced to retain any form of logical aspect in his head, considering the fact that Dean didn’t really _have_ any sometimes (yeah, that part of humanity, Castiel understood). One of them had to be the smart one, right? Right, so Castiel decided he would put aside…whatever this was…for later, when Mission Preventing Armageddon was over.

Unfortunately for the angel, however, Dean could see right past his shitty excuse.

A smirk made its way across the Winchester’s face. “Huh,” Dean shrugged, moving away and turning to stare at the sky instead. “But if we don’t control this, then…you might end up hurting innocent people out in the field.”

Now, two thousand years of humanity had prepared the angel well enough for confrontations like this. “Dean…” His voice dropped low, a warning tone that indicated this matter should not be pushed any further.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Dean only found this to be _extremely_ hot, and his green eyes blazed. “I guess we’ll have to keep this to a minimum then.” His voice was shaky, but Castiel didn’t notice. “You gonna tell me you don’t want to kiss, Angel?”

“That’s not what I meant.”  Castiel sighed dramatically. “But there’s ‘a lot on our plate’ at the moment, as you so delightfully put it.”

“So?”

“We can figure…this…out when Armageddon is over.”

“So what you’re saying is that _this_ is the dessert dish?”

“I don’t understand that reference but I will say yes.”

Dean smirked and leaned even closer into his personal space – not like the Castiel cared, obviously, it’s not like he even knew the concept of it. “Cas, remind me again, you’re a _rebel_. Dessert doesn’t always have to be after the meal.” He ghosted his lips above the angel’s. “Some people – really _awesome_ people – eat dessert, like pie, before anything else.”

Castiel gulped but made no move to close the gap.

“I’m going to kiss you, Cas.” Dean whispered. “I’m going to kiss you real slow, and if you can’t restrain your Wreck-It-Ralph powers, I’m going to stop.”

Before Dean could even make his next move, Castiel interrupted his train of thought. “Well,” The angel murmured; his breath hot on Dean’s face. “We’ll just have to see who gives in first, wouldn’t we?”

“What do I have to give in to, hmm? I thought I was calling the shots.”

“Or so you thought,” Castiel’s lips curled up into what was most definitely a _smirk_. “You like my wings. I know you were staring.” Dean’s eyes widened as he pulled away a little. “My ‘Wreck-It-Ralph’ powers are a side effect of my wings materializing in a short span of time. So what do you want more right now, for me to give in and kiss you, or for you to give in and see my wings?”

Dean clenched his jaw. Obviously, his pride had taken a huge blow. The pair stared at each other for, as usual, an unnecessarily long amount of time before Dean managed to speak again. “You sly son of a bitch, Cas, you can control your damn wings, can’t you?”

“Ah, I’ve been caught.” Castiel smiled.

“You did the whole barrel-hurling thing on purpose!” Dean exclaimed, his face red with embarrassment. “You did it to see my reaction to your wings, you little shit!”

Castiel could barely contain his laughter. He gathered his grace together and manifested them in his vessel’s shoulder blades. The same pair of white wings materialized slower this time, and it effectively silenced Dean’s rant. The Winchester stared at them. “Yeah, but I gotta say, Angel,” He whistled. “Your wings are truly a sight to behold.”

Two thousand years of humanity had not prepared Castiel for sincere compliments from someone he cared very much about. “Thank you, Dean.” He blushed.

“Now, important question,” Dean clapped his hands to clear the awkwardness that would soon hang in the air. “Can I kiss you without having to worry about you accidentally throwing Sammy off a cliff, out of the impala, or anywhere into a godforsaken ditch?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Great, next question – can you keep your wings there all the time and –”

“Dean, you’re bargaining too much.” Castiel sighed, then he leaned forwards and, for the very first time in two thousand years, initiated an intimate human gesture called a ‘kiss’. When they parted, Castiel smiled. “I will show my wings to you when you request _nicely_.”

The comment earned a chuckle from Dean, whom regarded the angel fondly for a few seconds. “Cas, what is this? What are we?”

“I suppose telling you to wait until we have averted Armageddon won’t work, would it?”

“Armageddon might be tomorrow for all we know, and if we can’t stop it.” Dean held his gaze. “So don’t leave me hanging –”

“ _Dean_ , we will –”

“Just in case, Cas, just in case we don’t.” Dean whispered softly.

Castiel stared at the hunter in silence. “I’ve had two thousand years of watching over humanity and there’s only one way to describe what this is right now.”

“If you say ‘love’, Cas, that would be exceptionally cheesy and I would –”

“No.” The angel’s answer had an air of confidence and finality to it that Dean had never heard before. “I think…this…is something new in humanity. And I’d like to pay witness to its growth for the rest of my time stationed here, on Earth.”

When they kissed again, it felt like some form of invisible thread had coiled itself around them, binding them together. And when Dean laughed and called Cas ‘a cheesy sap’, the air felt thick and electric, like maybe Armageddon might just happen right there and then.

Neither of them knew, of course, that it was the beginning of a new chapter in the Winchester Gospel.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :D Comments and kudos are equally appreciated.  
> * I have no idea if angel garrisons have numbers, so 'the 14th garrison' was really just a random thing.


End file.
